Adventure Day
March 23, 2025
Learning to Trust
Dear Nieces & Nephews,
Some of them loved these days and still talk about them today. Some chafed and battled.
Why?
I still ponder my way through the psychology of it. I’d suspect there were two elements at work: pride
(“I have better ideas than you; I want to do mine instead.”)
and insecurity
(“My trust broke when I was a baby and I can’t trust you unless you’re utterly predictable.”)
Both demonstrate an insatiable appetite for being in control.
And I relate to both.
It amazes me how diligent God is in refining the skill set I need to trust Him in each day’s unpredictability. It’s finally dawning on me that the angst in the pit of my stomach won’t dissipate until I let go of my pride and insecurity and stop battling for my own way, which sounds like this:
“I want adventure, but it needs to be of MY choosing, in MY timing. I need YOU to be steady and predictable and safe. YOUR job is to
(please) make it comfortable and fun, and
(please) make sure I look really good to everyone else along the way.”
God doesn’t usually go along with requests like this. He loves me too much.
He loves YOU too much too.
If you feel like you’re drowning today, please learn this alongside me: The very life circumstances that are drowning us can also make us float. The difference is in our response. Lightness and ease will not come from being in control of our own adventure, but in surrendering and trusting the One who loves us so very much. He is trustworthy, even when others haven’t been.
Peace will not come when the unpredictable stops. It will come when we learn to float in it.
How do we learn this skill?
Ask the Holy Spirit for swimming lessons. He
will teach you. He will. Just ask.
Even if you don’t think you know how to hear His voice, I guarantee He will not give you a snake when you ask for bread. (Matthew 7:9.) He’s the One who knit you together in your mother’s womb. (Psalm 139:13.) He knows every thought before it even enters your mind. (Psalm 139:2.) He certainly knows your language. Pay attention. Make Him
your focus, not the circumstances that are making you panic. Then respond.
We’re on the adventure of a lifetime together, you and I. Let’s enjoy it!
Love,
Aunt Michelle
Dear Nieces & Nephews, I haven’t written in a while. It’s not because I’ve thought of you less, but because the thoughts haven’t been clear enough to express. So maybe it’s a time for asking questions instead. How are you? Is your summer ready to hit full-swing? Do you have plans for deep soul-rest mixed into your bucket list? Does this list reflect your heart’s desires, or just the “summer shoulds” that swirl around our culture? Or the demands of your people? Are you giving extravagantly to them, while still letting them exercise their “NO" muscles? Are you exercising your “NO" muscle? Speaking of which, here’s a question about me: Do I teach too much about grace, and not enough about consequences? Probably. I hope that where I have, God will bring balance. He promises to be our Teacher. So maybe I can take the pressure off and realize I only carry a small piece of what He’s saying, and that’s OK. I’m not making or breaking anyone’s life. How about you? Are you putting too much pressure on yourself to be more than you are or to have more than is yours? If so, here are two wonderful terrible thoughts to remember: It’s not about me. ( Whew) I’m not God and am no one's savior. ( Double whew) Some of you have asked how you can help me through this season. I didn’t know until Shannon asked me at church this morning. Mid-answer, it became clear to me: Don't be afraid to look me in the eye. Tell me what’s happening in your life. Show me the world is bigger than the problem trying to block my view. Remind me that I’m still me, and tough things happening don’t change who I am. I'm still just plain ol' yours truly, Aunt Michelle
Let God Handle The Heavy Stuff
Dear Nieces & Nephews, Images of you have been filling my mind this morning. You’re going through so much. I want to be with you in it. But lives have put physical distance between us, along with the invisible barriers that come with full homes and schedules ... only to be crossed at special events and chance encounters at Costco. I sure do want this to change. Being with each other really is a very big deal. It’s the substance of relationship. Jesus wanted his disciples with him when he was entering his darkest hour. He brought them to Gethsemane with him. When he told them he was overwhelmed with grief and sorrow to the point of death (pretty vulnerable), it’s remarkable that they fell asleep on him. It’s not like He had a victim mentality and talked that way all the time. “I want someone with me in my pain,” is central to the human heart, and I believe mirrors God’s. Yet how often do we sleep through our loved ones’ pain? Or defend ourselves in it? Or analyze it? Or devalue it by trying to rationalize it away? Yesterday was the portion of Resurrection Weekend that experiences Jesus’ pain with him, that watches and prays with him, that doesn’t try to explain anything away or fix anything, but just stays with Him. I'm going to give it another day. What does that MEAN for me today, Lord? What does it LOOK like? Watch and pray f or WHAT? There are no soldiers for me to watch for. Perhaps I am just to watch. ??? Why is this so hard? I want to know what to watch for. And I want to know what to do when I see it. But you haven’t told me that yet. And if I try to prepare for it, I’ll bring along a sword and cut off someone’s ear, or something equally rash. JUST WATCH. AND PRAY. AND BE WITH HIM. Be with Him in His pain. Be with my family members in their pain. Don’t try to fix anything. Don’t defend myself. Don’t analyze it or assign blame. JUST WATCH. AND PRAY. AND BE WITH THEM. And remember. I didn’t prepare for this at all, but I’m going to set up our kitchen island with the closest thing I have to bread and wine, and serve a day-long communion. I'm going to remember what my Savior did for me as I watch and pray, and invite Uncle Kerry and your cousins to do it with me. And I'll be remembering YOU, my nieces and nephews. Maybe I can’t be with you, but I remember you. I am praying for you. And I am watching for any points of reconnection. All my love, Aunt Michelle
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